


Recovery: following The Dark in You

by RoseJennison



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Abusive relationship referenced, And some therapy, And trauma recovery, Because he definitely needs both, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jack needs more friends in these stories, Psychological Trauma, Sequel to The Dark In You, So Fluff and Angst, So I gave him some, but figured I'd warn for that anyway to be safe, nothing explicitly stated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseJennison/pseuds/RoseJennison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is written with permission from charmed7293 as a sort of sequel to her In The Dark Series. </p>
<p>Tooth thought that Jack was getting better after his ordeal, that he was finding ways to move on. She discovers one night that this couldn't be farther from the truth, and that it will take more than just her own support to set him on the road to recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charmed7293](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Dark in You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/901966) by [charmed7293](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/pseuds/charmed7293). 
  * Inspired by [The Dark in You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/901966) by [charmed7293](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/pseuds/charmed7293). 



> I've seen several fics about the dark possibility of Pitch returning to Jack's life, or Jack going crazy because of the trauma and shadows, but I wanted to do something that had a bit more hope to it. I wanted a story that showed one's life doesn't have to be completely defined by a traumatic past, so I tried to write one.
> 
> I realize that rape/abuse recovery is a heavy subject matter, so if at any point I seem too be treating it to flippantly then please let me know.
> 
> Also be warned that any supernatural elements will be a hodgepodge of things I've heard and stuff I made up.

Rashmi was assaulted the moment she got out of the taxi.

“Mom!” Tooth cried joyfully, tackling Rashmi with a hug. The Indian woman stumbled, and the taxi door slammed shut as she fell back. She laughed through the whole sequence.

“I see I was missed.” Rashmi's amused voice held only a hint of accent after so many years in the U.S. She gave her daughter a tight squeeze back before straightening up. Tooth released her mother, but followed closely behind as she paid the driver and lifted the traveling trunk from the backseat. Tooth chattered on, saying how much she had missed her mother and asking what she'd seen in Peru. She kept it up until the cabbie had rolled up his window and driven around the corner.

“Can you wait a bit on your usual follow-up work?” Tooth said, now much less bubbly. “So much has happened while you were away.” 

“Ah ah,” Rashmi mockingly chided “you know the rules, no talk of work until you've gotten your souvenir.” the older woman bent down and undid the clasps for the trunk. She opened the lid and fished out a small bag made of soft black cloth, which she gave to her daughter.

“Here we are, another addition to your collection.”

Momentarily distracted from delivering her news, Tooth eagerly took the bag and opened it up. Her violet eyes widened and she let out a gasp of delight. Sticking her hand into the bag she pulled out a box, about half a foot long and a few inches wide. The box was made of painted glass, with a bright blue background, gold edges, and colorful stylized flowers decorating the top and sides.

Once again, Rashmi found herself nearly knocked down by the force of Tooth's hug. 

“It's beautiful! I've never had one made of glass. Thank you so much!”

“I'm glad you like it! But you'd better put it back while we move things inside. It's hand-crafted, so it would be hard to replace if it shattered.”

Upon hearing the last few words Tooth suddenly sobered. She reverently placed the box back in the trunk, and grabbed one of the handles while her mother took the other. The pair lifted up the trunk and moved toward the door.

“Speaking things that shouldn't be broken, I need to talk you about something. It's kind of a long story, but you should know whole thing before you meet Jack.”

“Jack?” Rashmi's dark eyes peered curiously at her daughter as she opened the door to their home. “Isn't that the boy who was in the store with you during the gunman incident?” 

She knew Tooth would understand the subtext. Any paranormal activity was referred to as an 'incident' within their family. Tooth made a noise of confirmation as they fully entered the house and put the heavy trunk down in the living room.

“That's right, and there was a couple more incidents while you were gone.” 

“There were?” Rashmi voice was suddenly sharp and her eyes were hard. Tooth started fidgeting under her mother's suspicious gaze. “You approached them by yourself didn't you?” The girl flinched slightly. “Toothiana we have discussed this! There is still much you need to learn before handling incidents on your own!”

“I know Mom, but I didn't have a choice! Jack was in danger. If I'd waited for you to come back it could have been too late!”

Rashmi eyed her daughter critically, but after a few moments she nodded and settled on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her and Tooth sat down beside her.

“Tell me everything."

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Two incidents discovered and dealt with in just a few days. While Rashmi was far from pleased with the idea of her daughter taking on such dangers she was also very impressed. Few hunters as young as Tooth could have completely dispelled two malicious spirits within the span of 24 hours. 

Well, almost completely.

“You were right, little bird. It was still an incredible risk, but you were right. That boy could have been killed, or met an even worse fate, had you not acted quickly. Despite having little time to plan you met the challenge admirably. You have learned well.”

Tooth's eyes became impossibly large as she beamed at her mother's praise, but the older woman wasn't finished.

“This phenomenon with the mirror is very curious though. You say Jack sees the spirit in every reflective surface now?”

Tooth nodded, and Rashmi frowned. 

“I've never heard of such a thing. I'll start researching a remedy as soon as I can; it can't be easy for Jack to recover in this state.” Rashmi knew that was probably a grave understatement. She'd experienced first hand the kind of trauma a spirit like 'Pitch' could induce, and having a daily reminder of that trauma would be nothing short of torturous.

“I've put him up in the guest room for now, and did everything I could to lessen the amount of potential reflections in the house. He keeps trying to apologize for the way things worked out though, no matter how many times I tell him he doesn't have to.” Tooth said, frowning.

“That reaction is common in this line of work, unfortunately.” Rashmi replied with a sigh. 

“Isn't there anything else we can do for him?” Tooth asked anxiously. “Should we call Sanderson?”

“Give me a chance to observe Jack first, to see how he is dealing with his experience. Though working through the aftermath of such incidents is always hard, not everyone requires a professional. Sometimes the support of loved ones is all that is needed."

Tooth nodded, looking more determined than Rashmi had ever seen her.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Rashmi met Jack for the first time during supper that evening. She'd heard good things about him from both her daughter and husband, and the boy didn't disappoint. He was very polite during the meal, not to mention exceedingly grateful for everything their family was doing for him. He apologized for burdening them, and Tooth scolded him for it. After she did so the boy lightened up a bit and showed how charming he could be. He joined in conversations, and cracked a few jokes that had Tooth nearly choking on her bread.

But through it all Jack's smile didn't reach his eyes. Anxiety held its ground and didn't budge no matter how at ease the rest of Jack appeared. Rashmi got the feeling Jack was hiding his pain, rather than dealing with it. All the support in the world wouldn't help him if he wasn't willing to face his own demons. 

However, Rashmi decided not to call Sanderson just yet. She didn't doubt her intuition in this case; it had served her well over the years. But there were other things she could try before calling in the big guns. If she could figure out why Jack was seeing his tormentor in every reflection, and how to stop it, then Jack would have a much easier time with his recovery. 

Plus, though she believed her own intuition she also trusted her daughter's judgment. Tooth said that, for the most part, Jack seemed to coping. He went out looking for jobs often, and he'd be looking for a place of his own to live if the whole family hadn't told him not to worry about it. She never found signs of him having breakdowns either; he never lashed out and the times he'd had anxiety attacks in his room Tooth had been able to help him through them. Tooth felt these were signs that Jack was doing his best to move on with his life, so Rashmi decided they had some time to look into other options.

For the next couple of weeks she divided most of her time between research and keeping an eye on the boy. She looked through records for any cases similar to Jack's own, she studied the mirror Pitch was trapped in, and went back to Jack's old apartment to study the ritual circle Tooth had created. 

None of it yielded any clues that would help Jack.

It frustrated Rashmi to no end. Her entire life's work was to rid the world of dangerous spirits, an honor passed down to every woman in her family for generations. She should have been able to help this boy. She wanted to help him; this kind boy who could make Tooth smile and laugh so much. 

Finally, one day she found a possible lead, after she'd requested some documents from family friends living in Australia. Sometimes, if a spirit had been inhabiting one place for a long time the rooms themselves could retain some small part of the spirit, keeping it from being dispelled completely. Neither she or her daughter had thought to pay a visit to Jack's old room, or to try any ritual that affected the whole of his old apartment.

Tooth was able to wheedle Jack's childhood address out of him, only telling him they were going to investigate it to be on the safe side. She didn't want to get Jack's hopes up only to dash them if the cleansing ritual didn't help. Jack didn't protest the withholding of information. Perhaps he was still feeling guilty about Tooth having to bail him out of assault charges, which he'd accrued after a stranger with shiny new sunglasses had invaded his personal space.

It was easy for her and Tooth to sneak into Jack's old home. It seemed his parents were hardly ever around, and had mostly ignored Jack and his problems during his youth. Rashmi felt little sympathy for parents who could dismiss their child so easily, and didn't bother trying not to ruin anything as she and Tooth performed the full cleansing procedure on Jack's childhood room.

After the procedure was completed Tooth suggested doing the same thing to the apartment right away, since they still had enough supplies and the hour wasn't too late. Rashmi agreed.

The mother and daughter made their way up to the top floor of the apartment building as quietly as they could. When they reached the correct door Tooth took out the spare key Jack had given her, but it turns out she didn't need it. The door was already open. 

Tooth's eyes widened in surprise, and Rashmi's narrowed in suspicion. There was no sign of a forced entry, yet she was sure they'd locked the door after their last inspection. Rashmi signaled her daughter to hold back and let her take point. 

Rashmi entered the apartment slowly and silently. The apartment was far darker than it should have been, since the sun had set only a short time ago. For some reason all the curtains and blinds were closed, keeping any lingering light from entering. Rashmi's black hair and clothing made her blend with the darkness almost completely, but Tooth's eyes were well trained. She easily followed her mother, and clicked her flashlight on when given the signal to do so.

As the pair crept further inside they saw some of the furniture had been disturbed. The couch was askew, and had numerous tears with stuffing coming out. Though the window behind it couldn't be seen there was a few shards of broken glass laying on the sill.

Both turned to the hallway when they picked up the sound of heavy breathing. Tooth's grip on her light tightened, and Rashmi removed her blessed silver dagger. Such weapon was sharp enough to dissuade the living and holy enough to ward off the dead, most of the time.

When they entered the hall they could make out another noise, of something being punctured and ripped over and over. It was coming from the bedroom. 

They positioned themselves outside the slightly open door. Once they were ready, Rashmi gave her signal. Tooth kicked open the door and shinned her light inside. Rashmi brandished her blade as she stepped into the room to face the trespasser.

She met the alarmed eyes of Jack Frost. 

Jack screamed, dropped whatever was in his hand and covered his eyes. The young man dropped to the floor and curled in on himself. 

“Jack!” Tooth cried and ran forward. “Are you okay?”

After a moment of shock Rashmi found the light switch and flipped it. Tooth was kneeling next to Jack, who curled up tighter and starting whimpering the moment the lights came on. As Tooth did her best to comfort the trembling boy Rashmi took in the scene.

The bed's mattress had been completely shredded, too many rips and punctures to count. Even the headboard had some slash marks on it.  
Rashmi scanned the rest of the room which seemed to be undamaged, and saw the object Jack had dropped, a kitchen knife. She stashed her own weapon and carefully picked up the new one. She caught her own reflection in the blade, and was reminded of the image Jack would see when using this.  
She looked at the bed again, then down to a quietly sobbing Jack now huddled in Tooth's arms.

Even if Jack had been here for hours there was too much damage to have been done in one night. How many times had Jack come here to hide in the dark that, by all rights, he should fear?

Guilt squirmed in Rashmi's stomach when Jack uncurled and retched on the floor. She let Tooth focus on comforting the boy, while she searched the closet for something to clean it up. Rashmi chastised herself while she did so. She should have followed her intuition more closely, should have seen the amount of hurt Jack was hiding. She'd been a fool to wait this long. 

She was calling Sanderson, first thing in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up in Tooth's guest room is no longer strange. In fact, this room is one of the few places that Jack feels relatively safe in. 

A lot has been changed about the room to make him more comfortable in it: The metal handles on the dresser drawers have been scuffed to the point where they only reflect bright light, electronic devices with screens have been removed, as have mirrors, and any shiny nick-knacks have been taken away. Even the window has been taken care of, with a kind of window cling that makes the entire pane look like it has frosted over. Jack isn't overly fond of the tulip design it has, but so long as there isn't a reflection he isn't complaining. 

Despite the room's familiarity, Jack lays in confusion for a minute. He doesn't remember coming back here last night...

Then he spies Tooth curled up on the bean bag chair in the opposite corner, and everything from last night comes back to him.

Jack groans and pulls the covers up over his head, finding a strange comfort in the darkness. Reflections can't be seen in the dark. The problem is that the darkness always causes the shadows to twist his gut, and their whispers to grow louder.

_Come back...it's nice here...he will care for you...he loves you...come back...don't be scared...set him free...come back...come back..._

But the whispers are always there anyway, and he's slowly growing accustomed to the varying levels of nausea he's felt since the ritual...and the fevers...and the sudden feeling his heart was going to beat out of his chest... 

Still, Jack would take the shadows over the sight or sound of **him** any day.

He can't stay in the dark though, as a gently shake to his shoulder reminds him.

“Jack? Are you awake?”

He doesn't want to respond, doesn't want to face Tooth after remembering what state she found him in last night. But the worry in her voice makes him pull back the covers anyway.

He's careful not to look her directly in the eyes. He's already had one panic attack because he looked up at her and found **him** grinning back.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Tooth asks tentatively, like one wrong word or phrase could break him. A part of Jack wants to be irritated, but another part feels that just might happen. The strongest part wants to do anything to make up for what she saw last night. So he nods and sits up on the bed, making room for Tooth to sit down beside him. He turns his head toward her, waiting for her to start.

“I'm not going to demand answers about what was going on last night Jack.” She says, looking down at her own hands. “I've been here all this time, and if you felt comfortable talking with me you'd have been here last night instead of tearing apart your old place.”

There's disappointment in her voice, and Jack's face heats in shame. 

“I should have known that I wouldn't be enough. I'm in way over my head.” 

“No!” Jack snaps out of his silence. “Don't say that. You've been amazing! You've done more for me than anyone else my whole life.”

“But that's the problem isn't it?” She finally turns to him. “I'm too close, aren't I?”

Jack's jaw snaps shut with a click, and Tooth nods gravely.

“I thought so.”

“That's not your fault Tooth.”

“Neither is what happened to you.”

Silence falls between them. Neither of them truly believing the other. 

“I have an idea for how to get around that though.” Tooth says, voice brightening considerably. Jack frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was Mom's idea really. She said that if you can't talk to us then maybe it would help to try with someone a little more removed from the issue. She knows this guy named Sanderson who specializes in cases of supernatural trauma, and he's been able to help a lot of people we met in the past. He even lives right here in the city.”

“You...you want to send me to therapy?” Jack asks nervously.

“Plenty of people go to therapy after dealing with a terrifying experience Jack, there's absolutely no shame in going. Even I talked to Sandy a few times after I went on my first hunt with Mom. And it doesn't have to be super official if you don't want it to be; he's open to casual meetings too.” 

Jack huffs and looks away from Tooth. He's not worried about the taboo of therapy; it was the thought of explaining **him** to a stranger. He could barely handle Tooth's parents knowing what had happened. 

“Even if I wanted to go I can't afford it- and I'm not going to let you pay!” Jack quickly cut Tooth off before she could get a word out. She was quick to counter.

“That's really not an issue, actually. People in our business don't pay each other with money; we exchange goods, services, and favors. Sandy doing therapy for you just means we'll have to help him out in the future, which we'd already do since he and my mom go way back.”

“I don't know...” Tooth had already done so much for him, and he had failed her at the most crucial moment: the sealing. He didn't want to dig her into some kind of favors debt on top of it all.

Tooth peers at him for a moment before standing up and going back to the bean bag chair. She grabs a beige folder off the floor and hands it to him. 

“You don't have to make a decision right away. I've got you some more information to look over, if you want.”

After a moment of hesitation, Jack reaches out and takes the folder. Tooth smiles, despite seeing how uncertain Jack is. 

“I'll come and get you when we have dinner ready.” With that Tooth turns and walks out the door, leaving Jack alone with this thoughts and the whispers. 

The boy puffs out a long breath and stares at the folder in his hands. The last thing he wants to do is talk about his 'experience'. He has enough reminders of the ordeal on a daily basis, and that's just by accident. Why bring it up purposefully when he already has to structure his life around avoiding reminders? He doesn't want to examine it, he wants to forget it!

But that's not ever going to happen is it? 

He'll never be able to forget what happened. As terrible as it is, all he can do is try to make the best of what he has here and now. And right now he's got a family that is very worried about him. Jack looks around at the room, thinking about all the changes that have been made for him. The window clings were Tooth's idea, and her father had done the work on the metal handles. Tooth had stopped wearing any of her flashy metal jewelery, and her father had gone out to get plastic utensils and paper plates for him to eat off of. Plus, her mother seemed to be researching nonstop. 

They're all doing so much for him, and apparently talking to a therapist would lessen their worry. Even if nothing changes for him he can still try to improve things for them.  
With that thought Jack opens the folder and takes a look at the loose-leaf documents inside. The first thing his eyes land on is a picture of a short, portly man with bright eyes, a huge grin, and golden blonde hair that sticks out in all directions. Jack smirks a little. Having such a disarming appearance must make his job easier. Beneath the picture is a neatly printed name: 

SANDERSON MANSNOOZIE

Jack's gut suddenly rolls. He tosses the folder aside and lurches for the waist basket. He heaves into it, and coughs up a brackish black substance. 

Jack groans as the sudden bout of nausea passes, leaving his skin burning and prickly. He goes to his nightstand and lifts the lid off of the rough clay pot sitting on it. The pot has water in it and a cup beside it; an idea Tooth and her father had thought of so Jack can avoid the shiny bathroom surfaces as much as possible. He takes a drink to wash out the taste of his sick, and practically collapses onto his bed. He's never had a reaction quite like this before. 

That's when it hits him. The increase in illness came just as he read the therapist's name, and, instead of the fear or dread that normally accompanied such waves, he'd felt rage spike through him. The cajoling whispers had changed to angry buzzing and furious hisses, like a swarm of bees had attacked a bunch of alley cats.

It was as if the shadows knew Sanderson, somehow. Was that possible? If the shadows hated Sanderson that much then their master probably felt the same way. If going to see this guy would ease the worries of Tooth and her family and allow him to get back at his tormentor a little, then what did he have to lose?

Well, other than his lunch that is.

Jack spent the rest of the day pouring over the information Tooth had given him (carefully avoiding reading the name again). When she came to announce that the food was ready she was pleased to find some of the pain in his eyes had been replaced with determination. 

Upon sitting down with the family one of the first things Jack said was: “When's the next time this Mansnoozie guy has a time slot open?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandy's reputation precedes him. 
> 
> In a lot of supernatural stories full names have a lot of significance or power. So I figured that if the shadows were going to respond to anything concerning Sandy it would be that.


	3. Chapter 3

Nausea churns Jack's stomach as he sits in the brightly lit waiting room of Sanderson's office. Ariel, the pretty red-haired assistant, had said he needed to wait while Sanderson wrapped a few things up.

This wasn't the first time Jack had been out and about since **he** was sealed away. Jack spent a great deal of time out on the town at first, before he fully realized just how many reflective surfaces there are in the world. After a day or so of settling in at Tooth's house, Jack had gone job hunting. Tooth seemed unsure if he should be going out on his own so soon, but Jack told her he was fine. He'd said that finding more normal, non-supernatural things to get involved with would help him move on. He believed that too, at the time.

But there was no normal anymore, not for him. The job search had made that very clear. He ended up running away from half the places he approached, spooked by a reflection in a window, counter top, or another customer's glasses. The few times he did get as far as an interview he'd be so jumpy it put off the interview. Potential employers didn't seem to like it when you wouldn't meet their eyes and twitched like an addict going through withdrawal. (Offices had a surprising amount of shiny surfaces).

Tooth's father had offered him a job after Jack admitted his lack of success over dinner one night. Jack had refused though, and told them he wanted to try making his own way. The family had already done more than he could repay, but he didn't want to become over-dependent on them. He'd allowed himself to become dependent before, and look where it had gotten him.

There was also the issue of who his co-workers at Tooth's store would be. Many of the kids working there were far too eager to talk about the gun man incident, and that curiosity didn't seem likely to dissipate soon. A young man named Jamie was the worst culprit. When he'd found out that Jack had been in the store when it happened the boy's rapid-fire questions had sent Jack flying from the store in a panic. Tooth had given Jamie a stern talking-to when she heard, but Jack didn't want to risk a repeat. 

So now he only entered the store if he knew Tooth was working there, or another girl he'd met whom everyone called Cupcake. She was too focused on fantasy to bother talking about the supernatural, and was more likely to bring up her minor unicorn obsession than anything concerning the gunman. It was nice to chat with someone who talked about more ordinary things.

“Jack?”  
He looks up at Ariel.

“I just got a text from Mr. Mansnoozie saying that he's finished with the notes from his last appointment and is ready to see you now.”

Jack nods his understanding and gives what he hopes is an easy-going smile. She responds with an encouraging one, quite used to seeing nervous patients. Jack gets up and walks down the short hall on the right of her desk. He pauses outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath to steel himself, before pushing it open.

He's relieved to find that the lighting level in here is much more comfortable. The big armchair and fainting couch look comfy too, though he can't say he's a fan of their off-gold color. 

And there, sitting at a pine wood desk, is the man himself. 

He looks just like his picture, blonde hair a disarrayed mess and a wide smile ready for Jack as the young man walks in. Jack lets out small sigh and pushes the door behind him, though not enough to close it completely. Sanderson either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

Jack's heart skips a beat when he sees the computer screen facing the seating area, but thankfully the screen is already lit. He reminds himself of what he read in the file, and what Rashmi told him. Sanderson is mute, and communicates with most patients via text. He even has a keyboard ready and waiting in front of him.

“So.” Jack starts, falling down into the plushy armchair. “Just so we're clear, I'm not big on dramatic reveals or sappy back story swapping, even if Tooth might be hoping for something like that, so don't get your hopes up. Just how much did Tooth's mom tell you anyway?  
”  
Sanderson raises an eyebrow at him, and then starts typing. A moment later black letters appear on the screen's white background.

Hello to you too.

Jack blushes a bit; apparently Sanderson was one of the few people who didn't need a sarcasm font.

“Uh, yeah, hi. Sorry about that, I just...I'm nervous. And I want to know where we stand.” 

Rashmi told me you had an encounter with a boogieman, but not much else.

Tooth's mother hadn't spilled everything, giving him more control over these sessions. Jack feels his affection for the spirit hunter increase.

“Well, just so we're clear, that's probably all you'll ever know. I'm not coming here to talk about that, I'm just here because it will help Tooth and her family feel better.” He says firmly. Sandy gives him an understanding smile and shrugs. 

That's perfectly fine. I'm certainly not going to force you to talk about anything you don't want to talk about.

Jack looks at him skeptically. 

But that doesn't mean we have to sit in silence. Since you'll be coming here regularly we might as well talk about something.

“Like what?”

Anything that comes up. Sanderson types, smiling and shrugging again. Isn't that what friends do?

“We're friends now?”

Well, maybe acquaintances at this point. But we aren't really talking about a psychological issue so I can hardly call these therapy sessions. Just seem easier to call it chatting with a new friend.

Sanderson's smile seems to be infectious, as Jack can't help smiling a little in return. 

“Ok, sure, I can roll with that Mr. Mansnoozie.”

Please, call me Sandy.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Jack starts coming to his 'therapy sessions' regularly. Their talks are a bit stilted at first, not ranging from safe topics like the weather and 'How is everyone?'. But, with time, the two begin to find common ground. Sandy mentions that he is a writer and favors the fantasy genre, especially fairy tales involving the sea. Jack admits that he used to do a bit of writing himself when he was younger. The fantasy angle causes him to bring in topics he's briefly discussed with Cupcake, and he's highly amused by how much enthusiasm Sandy shows for magical sparkling horses.

Though Jack remains resolute in not discussing the boogieman, revelations creep into their conversation.

Jack commenting on Sandy's reaction to the topic of unicorns and other things that are considered strictly 'girly' results in a conversation about gender rolls and expectations. 

“I've always found 'manly-men' to be hilarious.” Jack says with a chuckle. “You know, the ones that act like touching the color pink will burn them or that hugging in public will make the villagers shun them forever.”

Sandy nods in agreement, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

“I mean, I've got frosted tulips plastered all over my window and I've yet to spontaneously combust!” 

Frosted tulips? Sandy types curiously.

“Their on the window clings Tooth got for me. I'd prefer snowflakes or something, but they work fine.”

If you don't like them much, then why not take them off until you find a design you do like?

Jack falls silent, wondering if he should tell Sandy the real reason. It'd be easy to spout something like not wanting to hurt Tooth's feelings, but he feels bad using her as a scapegoat.

Jack?

Well, maybe if he confesses just this Sandy then will be better about keeping the shades drawn.

“I have to keep them there, or else I'll be able to see my reflection in the window. And I can't let that happen because if I do then I'll see...I'll see the boogieman.” 

Sandy's sits straighter, clearly surprised. This was the first time Jack had bought up the supernatural since their first meeting.  
It was also the first time Jack got sick in Sandy's office. 

There had been occasions where Jack had to leave the office quickly at the end of their meetings: to lose his lunch in the hallway trashcan, to run outside and cool his feverish skin, or jump quickly into Tooth's car where he could more easily calm his rapidly beating heart. But this first confession about him marked the first time he actually let Sandy or Ariel see it. 

Jack struggles through explaining his trouble with reflections, suddenly feeling out of breath. Sandy is just about to ask him if he's alright when Jack lunges for the wastebasket and heaves. 

He really should learn to eat lighter meals before going to see Sandy.

Jack jumps when he feels hands rub his shoulders. He looks up in alarm, remembering how **he** once did that, but he relaxes a bit when he meets Sandy's concerned expression.

“S-sorry.” Jack pants. “I've been feeling kind of off today, maybe we should cut this short.”

Sandy nods, then hops back over to his desk. When he comes back he hands Jack a written note.

Should I get Ariel to call someone for you?

“No, it's fine, I can call Tooth myself.” Jack's fairly certain she isn't working today. Sandy takes the piece of paper back, flips it over to write on the other side, then hands it back.

Alright, but be sure to tell her how your feeling.

“Yeah, sure.” Jack says after a moment of hesitation.

He thanks Sandy, waves to Ariel on his way out, and goes out to sit on the dull, non-reflective curb while he calls Tooth and waits. His friend shows up just a few minutes later.

“Lucky for you I was already out getting groceries.” she says, giving him a cheerful smile through the open window. Jack keeps his eyes locked on the pavement as he shuffles over to the passenger seat, then on his own hands as he gets in and sits down. Even though she's used to the lack of eye contact, Tooth can't help a bit of concern over his sluggish motions and the way he slumps in his seat.

“Did things not go well this time?” she asks gently.

“It was fine, Sandy just had something come up so he cut things short.”

“Oh, ok. You still look a little off though...” 

“I'm just tired, didn't get a lot of sleep last night.”

Tooth hums sympathetically, and lets the topic drop.  
It wasn't entirely untrue, Jack hardly ever got a full night's sleep these days. He feels a little guilty for going back on his word to Sandy, but feels less for lying to Tooth. It's not like she can do anything, and it would only give her something else to worry about. Plus, it's hard to contemplate complex feelings when he's so distracted by the shadows' angry hissing.

He wasn't the only one keeping quiet though, as Sandy didn't yet mention his suspicions concerning the black flecks he saw while throwing out the sick.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

On another occasion, Jack asks if Sandy was born mute. 

Nope, I actually lost my voice during my Junior year of high school. I had to make a lot of changes to my life to accommodate it.

“I'll bet.”

It's a good thing I was well adjusted enough that I could go to college on time. I'd hate to have waited another year. Sometimes I worry it's not enough though, especially for the field of psychology. My Communications professor warned that there are a lot of ways to misinterpret text. Text can't really make up for tone.

“Yeah, if only they made things like sign language a requirement in younger grades.” Jack says with a rueful chuckle. “I don't think you have much to worry about though. The text may not have tone, but you do. I think you've gotten facial expressions down to a science.” Jack says with a grin. Sandy tilts his head slightly.

You think so?

“Yeah, especially since you're doing it right now.” his grin widens as Sandy laughs and makes a few silly faces in response.

I never thought of it like that; it's more instinct than science. Just something that I naturally developed after losing my voice. It's good to know it's so helpful.

“The focus on visual communication is kind of nice actually.” Jack says with a nod. “Especially since-” The young man cut himself off abruptly, realizing what he'd been about to say. The shadows were growling at him. It was mostly unintelligible, but sometimes he caught things like 'Be quiet!' and 'You don't need him!'

Jack's attention is drawn outside of himself when Sandy rings a small bell on his desk. When he sees Jack look up the therapist points at the screen.

Are you alright?

“Fine.” Jack says with more force than necessary, feeling as though he had to speak above the shadows. When he sees Sandy flinch at the volume, he becomes determined to explain himself. 

“It's just- the shadows that **he** left- I can still hear them.” Jack paused to swallow down the sudden rise of nausea. “Sometimes, like right now, they get kind of loud.” Jack put a hand to his stomach, and another to his mouth. “Can be hard to hear people.” He finally grinds out. 

A moment later he's at the wastebasket again. 

Sandy doesn't touch him this time, but Jack distantly hears the door open as he's heaving. Once he's done he hears footsteps, and looks up. He finds Sandy standing in front of him with a glass of water. Jack takes it and gulps it down eagerly. Once he's done, he gives Sandy a weak smile. 

“So, yeah, that's why the visuals can be nice.”

The little man's brow furrows in concern as he takes out a notepad and pen from his pocket and starts to write.

Do the shadows often get loud here?

“Every time.” Jack confirms, and nearly heaves again as the shadows' anger spikes for a moment. They quiet a bit when he doesn't elaborate. 

Jack doesn't have to call Tooth this time, since this incident happened at the very end of their 'session'. By the time Jack walks out to meet her Sandy has already started a text to Rashmi. His worried eyes study the brackish bile, and he waits for her response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> The thing about Jack punching someone because of their shiny glasses is a reference to a work by TheGoldenAppleofAsgard, called Night Terrors: Post 'The Dark in You'. The ending scene where they find Jack in his old place was also inspired by this story.


End file.
